Forgiven
by feiyan-sidhe
Summary: A quick oneshot after so much silence from me... wow. They never let him forget his one mistake; one had hadn't even wanted to make. His life was empty until he held his redemption in his arms.


Draco Malfoy trudged into the Auror office early that morning. He rubbed his hands over his face and tried to wake his brain before his probationary interview. He hated these damn interviews. Every year he had to drop what he was doing to talk to some old grizzly prat with a superiority complex and repeat over and over again that he was not meeting with ex-death eaters or trying to off ministry officials like Harry Potter. But more than his annual interviews, he **loathed** this particular year's interview. He'd even flooed from the bloody hospital to reschedule only to have some ministry pencil necked assistant tell him that he could not reschedule and emphasize that he would be sent to azkaban if he didn't show up at the time he was given. So, there he stood, waiting in the freakishly clean waiting room for his name to be displayed with the name of the wanker he'd be wasting his time with that morning. "Fuck..." he muttered and read his own name displayed with that of Harry blood fucking Potter's.

"I'm not much happier about this than you are." Potter muttered and beckoned Draco to join him in his office. Draco took a seat and took in the cluttered mess, it was bedecked on every surface with pictures of the Weasley family, he and his wife, and the cherubic faces of his son. He snapped to attention when a mug appeared before his face. "Coffee? You look like shit." Potter poured another mug for himself as Draco accepted the cup hesitantly and sorely wished that he'd watched to be sure Potter hadn't slipped anything into his cup.

He didn't feel anything out of the ordinary after having taken the first sip and cleared his throat to get Potter's attention, "I have somewhere I need to be, so if you don't mind..." It came out in a bored drawl, but Draco didn't much care for Potter's impression of him at the moment. He just wanted to be gone.

Potter nodded and opened the file, Draco assumed to be the one assigned to his probation. "You left England on two occasions this year... where did you go?"

"France to visit my parents, and Italy to take my wife on vacation." Draco answered in his best monotone... he was familiar with the jumped up aurors, any hint of defiance and they could keep him hostage in their offices for a **very** long time.

"Have you met with any former death eaters?"

"Just my father and father-in-law."

"Have your participated in any gatherings with anti-ministry or anti-muggleborn leanings?"

"No." Draco jumped as the disk in his pocket shocked him and he scrambled in a most improper fashion to retrieve it. It read just as he had expected that he was needed. "Look Potter, I've got to go now."

Harry stood up with Draco and sputtered, "Malfoy, you can't just..."

In his irritation Draco locked eyes with his school time rival and growled, "If you have to put me in Azkaban for this, then fine. But I left my wife to be here and she needs me with her now."

"I'm coming with you then, we can use my floo."Harry offered and motioned to the bag of floo placed on the mantle.

"Merlin help me Potter, you'd better not slow me down." Draco growled and tossed a handful of floo powder into the fire. The moment the green flames erupted in the grate he called, "St. Mungo's, third floor" and dashed into the grate. Nothing deterred his focus as he waited for the right great to appear. He wasn't a fan of the dizzying feeling most days, but he searched for the grate to St. Mungos. He hit the hearth at a run and only looked back to make sure that Potter had landed in the correct grate. They raced down the halls as Draco began to note the room numbers. He skidded to a stop as a nurse stepped out of froom 369, carrying a small bundle in her arms.

The nurse was a pretty brunette woman with a round face and an almost contagiously joyous demeanor. Draco remembered her from the previous night, and even in the dead of night she'd been cheerful to a fault. She took in the two winded men and smiled, "Perfect timing Mr. Malfoy, you wife asked me to tell you his name is Scorpius Hyperion." She instructed Draco with small nudges how to hold his arms before placing the bundle into them. It was surprisingly heavy to be so small; Draco nudged the blankets aside and looked down into the crisp grey eyes of his son. The baby had a tuft of snow white hair and sucked his fist. "Hello Scorpius." He breathed and pressed his lips to baby Scorpius' forehead as he wandered into the delivery room and sat on the bed by his wife. "We have a son."

Astoria Malfoy chuckled and took her son as Draco extended his arms to transfer the baby, who was beginning to fuss. "How does it feel, Daddy?"

"You are amazing," Draco confessed and lower his lips to hers, "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

Astoria shook her head and placed a hand to Draco's cheek. He calmed at the caress and leant into her warmth. Life was on the verge of perfection, but a sinking realization soured his utopia and refused to be chased away by the tender affection. He hadn't finished his interview and would, most likely, be arrested and sentenced to Azkaban within a few short hours. "Astoria, I have to talk to Potter. I didn't finish the interview."

Draco's heart broke to see Astoria's eyes filled with such fear. She looked between her son and husband and asked in a shaky voice, "How bad is it if you don't finish this year?"

"Shh..." Draco hushed and smoothed the fringe of Astoria's hair. "I'll do whatever it takes to get him to finish the interview. I will be here tomorrow to take both of you back home." he took a deep breath and turned to floo back to the ministry.

"Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Potter left this for you," the nurse was back again and handed a card to Draco before seeing to Astoria to learn to feed her son. He flipped the card over as he walked from the room and deciphered from Potter's scraggly excuse for handwriting that Draco was to meet him at his address in Godric's Hollow. Draco steeled his nerves with the euphoria holding Scorpius had brought him and made his way to the hospital's apparition point.

* * *

The squeezing sensation that accompanied apparating subsided as he found his footing in Godric's Hollow. The houses were not much different than his own wizarding neighborhood... though noticeably smaller than his home. Draco looked for the house number and inwardly groaned at the sight of the Potter house. The building was grand enough, or it had the potential to be, but it was decorated in a sea of wildflowers spilling everywhere and the house was painted some god awful shade of pastel yellow with green shutters. 'It's either this or azkaban' he reminded himself and thought of the little bundle of human he'd held not ten minutes ago. For Scorpius, even begging Potter to keep him out of prison in an ugly yellow house was bearable. He gave the brass knocker to sharp raps before he stepped back and hoped that he was not about to be hexed.

When the door opened, Draco looked down into the less-than-impressed face of Ginny Potter. She was thicker around the middle than he'd remembered, but the infant leaning on her chest and resting it's head on her shoulder was explanation enough. The baby was not much bigger than his own new son and couldn't have been much older either. Draco wracked his brain to remember if the prophet had even mentioned a second child... he hadn't paid much attention to the post as of late. "Harry said you'd be stopping by." Ginny reported and opened the door further, "Come in." He nodded and stepped into the house and sat awkwardly on the couch Ginny pointed to. The inside was much nicer than the outside, though it was a glaring reminder that both Potters were from Gryffindor. He followed Ginny to a rocking chair she collapsed in and set to rocking her child.

"How old?" Draco asked before he really knew why he was engaging Ginny in conversation.

The red head blinked in surprise, probably deciding if she'd actually heard him speak to her. She looked at her infant and replied, "He's two weeks old... I'd appreciate it if you don't inform the prophet, they don't know he was born."

Draco nodded, "I have a son..."

At this Ginny startled, "Really? How old?"

Draco checked his watched for the time and guessed, "20 minutes give or take?" Ginny gave a low whistle and muttered a congratulations and a warning that he would not be sleeping for the next few months.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Potter announced as he came down the stairs with a toddler sitting on his foot, clutching his leg. "This is yours," and handed Draco a packet of parchment.

"What's this?" He muttered and flipped through the packet.

"Your probation papers, you'll get a copy of my report by owl. You've been deemed no longer a threat to the ministry, so you won't have to check in every year or declare when you travel internationally." Potter explained and pried the toddler from his leg and swatted the little dark haired boy on the seat of his diaper to usher him to play with a set of blocks in the corner. Draco looked down at his freedom in shock... his breaths came easier and the fear of being sent to azkaban dissipated. His next thought was to hurry home and tell Astoria, she'd be thrilled.

"Thank you." he muttered and stowed the packet in his back pocket. "Really, Potter. Thank you."

"I get the message." Potter insisted and nudged his head towards the infant his wife was holding, "I get why you left early. I would have too. He's a cute kid; looks nothing like you." Draco glared at his rival gave him a mischievous grin.

"Git" he muttered and left the ugly yellow house, with a shabby yard, and apparated from the minute neighborhood back to St. Mungo's where he strode to the nursery and spotted his son, sleeping in a bassinet... sucking his fist again. "He does too look like me..." he whispered and kissed the little infant's face. "You're perfect, and you're going to get better scores than his son in every subject, yeah?"


End file.
